Maison Rainer, The 66th Victor
by SoccerLover15
Summary: What would happen if Katniss and Peeta had another younger, deadly mentor to help them survive? What would happen if the one and only Finnick Odair saw beauty in this strange eyed, broken girl? This is the story of Maison. A young girl, forced into the games at 11 years old with her brother and sister.
1. Chapter 1

Maison POV

Pure shock slapped me in the face as my family's name was read of the small slip of deadly paper. It was the 66 hunger games, and it was special. We had special surprise games every once and a while now, and the 66 fell into that pattern. This year, a family's name was called, and all the children 5 and up were forced into the games. You could not have more than 5 people come from a family, but it didn't matter if there was only one child. When this was announced I realized how hard it would be for an only child to win, no family allies. Yet maybe it would be easier, not having to go in with your family you know would eventually be killed. I had pondered that night if my family was called could one of us make it. Well know I was facing that harsh reality.

I couldn't exactly remember how to move my body, my brain told my legs to move me, but they must have been on strike because they didn't take a step. Children my age started to roughly push me towards the isle to where I would meet my execution. I silently thanked them; at least someone here could control their bodies. I saw Oaken rise out of his group of boys, so with white shaking fingers I reached for my brother, grasping his large hand with my petite ones. I always felt like my brother resented me, so I was surprised when his hand welcomed mine, wrapping around it. I felt his hands tremble for a second and I knew he was hopelessly trying to seem stronger and tougher, consoling him and me. His large stature created a shadow over me. I barely hit 5'2 while my brother was literally a foot taller than me, hitting the scale at 6'2. I couldn't see my sister yet but I knew she would find us to walk up to the platform

There were three children in my family, my brother, Oaken who was 13, me and I was 11, and my oldest sister Lark, who was coming on the age of 17. United our family marched to our deaths unto the platform, the glory of district 12 around us. Our escort Ensai Waxen, giddily clapped her pink dyed hands and her odd shaped finger nails made a hollow clicking noise. She was a strange woman, but I suppose that was what all capitol women were like. Today she was dressed in a purple gown; feathers seemed to pop out at odd angles while bells jingled when she moved. Her hair was a dark blue and it swirled around her head. When she looked at me her garish makeup took me back, and I cringed. I knew that no one would volunteer for us. No one in their right mind would risk their entire family for someone else.

I saw my father thru the crowds of people, and tears ran down is cheeks. My mother died in child birth with me, so I had no memories of her, just faint smells of dandelions on her old dresses before we sold them and the small tarnished mirror she had, kept locked away by my father. We were all the man had left. We were part of the poorest part of district 12, nicknamed the seam. We would have starved without my father's illegal knowledge of hunting and gathering. My father was a coal miner, like most of the adults on 12, but the pay was not enough to keep a family of four even slightly feed. Because my father could get food from the forest, we were better off than most of the starving people of the seam. I knew a few other families who did this, but we were still rare.

My dad was once apart if the richer part of 12, but one day he saw my mom. My mother wouldn't give him the time of day, knowing he was from the merchant area of 12, she considered herself stronger and braver then the weak rich. My father decided to prove he was good enough for my mom by leaving the rich, and moving to the seam. She married him a month later. My father said I was a lot like my mother, stubborn and proud, refusing to except anything other then what I wanted.

He wasn't very good at hunting, so he had one of his close friends teach me to shoot a bow and handle a knife when I was 8. I knew this man as Mr. Everdeen, and I also knew he had a daughter younger than me that he also taught, but I never knew her identity. 3 times a week he would leave his family to find me and my father in the woods, to teach me to kill. He even made me a bow for my birthday. I thought of this man as an uncle, even thou he had no relation to me at all. I had picked up the hunting skill fairly quickly, and I was lethal with a bow, much unlike my brother and sister.

They were more like my Father, sweet gatherers with ice blonde hair and warm blue eyes. Even my mother had blue eyes, which was strange considering she was from the seam. She had cold, dark brown hair which I inherited, but for some reason I didn't receive either of my parents' eye color. I was cursed with almost black-gray eyes with odd slashes and specks of green and gold. I had never seen eyes like them in the entire district; in 12 you either had blue eyes or gray ones, nothing else. My father said they were beautiful, but I could never fathom why my eyes had to be the different ones. I was already different in every other way. The only person I would be somewhat like in my family would be my mother, yet thru the cruel injustice of life, she was gone.

Kicked from my memories I heard Ensai's now booming voice echo over the courtyard. _"_My my my, she began, what a triumphant year it will be_"_. I had no idea why she thought one of us could be a victor. What made her think we would become victor material? I was a shaken 11 mess, my hands trembling and skin ashy white, and my 17 year old sisters weeping sobs could be heard all the way from the woods. I was sure even my brother looked like he had seen a ghost.

Shortly after the broadcasting of our districts tributes, my siblings and I were shoved into different rooms to say goodbye, but I knew I would only have one visitor. I was never what you would call _"_popular_"_ in school. I was the strange freak who belonged no were. My brother was fairly attractive and he had a girlfriend I was positive would visit him, along with some loyal friends he had collected over the years. My gorgeous sister had swept up many boys in her life, and easily made friends, so I knew she would have also have many goodbyes to say. My father rushed into my room eventually, sweeping me up in kisses and hugs. _"_Maison_"_, he looked me straight in the eyes. _"_Baby you know how to shoot a bow, so when the time comes, do it._"_ I stared at him, momentarily stunned. He quickly pressed a necklace into my hand. _"__It _wasyour mothers, use it as your token, I love you_" __these_ were his last words as he was ripped away from me. I opened my small palm and found a silver deer shrouded in trees staring up at me, the charm was suspended on a silver chain, and I hooked it around my neck. I sat in the overly plush chair and realized I never told my father I loved him. I scrubbed angry tears off my cheeks quickly, I knew this was the time I would need to be my strongest, the time I was going to die.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors note:**

**Hey, thanks to all the people reading this! It's my first story and I really hope it turns out well! I don't know how often I can update because my computers basically a piece of crap! Finnick won't come for just a bit. Maison was only eleven when she plays her games, so we can't have them together quite yet! I would love anyone to leave me a review! It would seriously help! I also decided to update today really fast because I'm in love with t****h****is story and my computers actually working! Until next time! Love ya! **

**As it will forever be, th****e****h****unger ****g****ames are owned by Susan Collins, not me!**

I was called out of my small farewell room into the hallway were I was put with my siblings again. I had been so concerned with my own feelings, that I hadn't even thought of oaken and lark. I looked up at my sisters ashy face and wished she didn't have to do this, but I felt no sadness for myself, I would take this with courage and bravery. Lark's liquid sky eyes poured into my strange ones, asking questions that I simply couldn't produce answers for.

Even though my sister was much older than me, I still felt responsible for her. She was sweet and pretty, and much too innocent for the harsh cruelty of life in Panem. She saw beauty in everything, whether it be the crisp colored leaves in the fall, or a dreary puddle she had just slipped in. Everyone loved to talk to her, heck; they loved to be able to even look at her. She was one of the prettiest girls in the seam, and her carefree sweetness seamed to draw even more people to her.

I was the stark opposite of her, being called a killer from the outcome of my birth, and getting beaten blue every day after school made me grow some tough skin. No one ever stopped to say hello to me, or ask how I was doing. I never saw anything that made me feel joy, I don't think ever actually felt happiness. Yet I didn't pity myself; I accepted the feeling of dread every day I woke up. I never stopped to feel sorry for myself, because that was what the weak did. Being weak would get you absolutely no were in your days. I knew what pain was like. I knew what sadness was like. I knew what it was like to be resented every day of your life. I was all too aware of what our world was like, even at the fragile age of 11. My father always joked that I grew up to fast, but that's exactly what I had done.

My brother was another story, rough and course. That's what he wanted you to think at least. It took a while but eventually you could begin to see the gentle side of Oaken. How he couldn't go hunting with me and my father because he couldn't bear to see anything's life take away, or how I would catch him letting tears fall free when he saw something that reminded him of our mother.

That was why I always felt like my brother hated me so much, because he loved our mother more than anything, and I had taken her away. Oaken hardly spoke to me, and when he did they were short, rude comments or commands. Whenever anyone mentioned a single thing about our mother, Oaken would turn to glare at me. I could even feel is staring when my back was turned. Could I even call her that, _our_, mother? I had killed her, so she never had a chance to exactly mother me, so was she even something I could call mine?

I scrambled to clear my head as I was brutally shoved onto the train that was heading to the Capitol. Peacekeepers weren't exactly kind to 11 year old tributes. I saw our only chance of life, our drunken mentor Haymitch, stagger onto the train behind us, yelling profanities about another year of watching people die. I wasn't sure how much watching this man would actually do, I realized that it wasn't a rumor Haymitch spent all is time getting drunk, to forget his games.

The games, I knew they broke so many people. One minute someone was a happy care free child, and next they were thrown into the position of life and death, and they got life. I heard victors are plagued with the nightmares of the children they'd killed. If I won, would it just add to the list of nightmares I had of my mother? I threw that idea from my head as I remembered I wouldn't win. I was a scrawny 11 year old girl, someone was bound to be stronger and faster, someone who would deal the killing blow.

As I boarded the train my eyes were bombarded. White chandeliers hung from the polished ceiling, and the furniture seemed to be made of glass. The décor that lingered around the room looked like spun gold and silver, and I immediately felt for my necklace. Thru the windows I saw the forest of district 12 fly by. My salvation, the only place I felt like I truly belonged.

I'm not sure how I managed to find a chair and sit, but I did, and I looked around at the glorious heaps of food surrounding me. Things my brain couldn't comprehend were pilled around me, and I could have as much as I wanted, and yet people in all the districts were starving to death. I realized my siblings had already tucked into the mounds of strange delicacies, but I had a sick feeling in my stomach, like I was going to spew my meager breakfast of bread and squirrel all over Ensai and the table.

Haymitch looked at me drunkenly from across the table, " Why aren't you eating princess, too good for you?" he swung his hands around when he talked and I briefly thought his alcohol bottle would fly across the room and nail me in the face, at least it would be a quick way to die, much better then what was looming over me. I glared at him over the mountain of food, saying nothing; I was in no mood for games and jokes.

"Wow," he muttered, "Well aren't you a chatty Cathy?" his response was meet with another stone cold glare before he stood up,

"Well this has been fun and all, but I have more important matters to attend to" He swayed to the cabin dour and it slid shut behind him, closing us off from him. I momentarily thought about what his "more important matters" could be, but when my brain failed me with an answer I decided to pick into a strange lump I believed to be a roll of bread.

Hours passed until we were gathered to see the reaping of the other districts. We were brought into a small living room like space, with a giant broadcaster flickering before us. It started off with district 1 of course. The smallest group was from 6, a 14 year old boy that was an only child. All the others had more than one, and the mostly ranged from 2-4. There was a small child from district 2 called, she was about 6, but her brother was a giant 18 year old so I was positive shed be okay, at least for a while. All together there was 36 of us, 35 children would die, and one would live.

We eventually were shown to our bedroom compartments and after a tearful goodnight from sister and eye contact with my brother, I slipped into my room. I was meet wit the site of pillows to the ceiling, and a bed that looked like, for lack of a better word, a cloud. I slipped off my reaping dress, and crawled into what I believed were satin sheets. I tried, in vain, to fall in to the sub consciousness of sleep, but it would not find me. I rolled and tossed and turned, yet I could not find a comfortable spot. Sliding out of bed, I put my dress back on, intend on finding somewhere peaceful. I drifted around the train; there were so many corridors and halls to get lost in. I settled in the dining room eventually, tired of wandering. Suddenly the door slid open to reveal Haymitch, for once in his life, sober. He greeted me with a sigh and sat opposite me on the table.

"Can't sleep either," Haymitch groaned," huh princess?"

After a few awkward seconds, I decided to finally speak to him. "I never can, what about you, my king" he chuckle at my joke, but it ended shortly.

"I don't think I've actually slept a whole night since my games."

"Well isn't that encouraging."

"Maison," he stared at me, "You seem like a kid who's had more in her life than most, so I'm telling it to you straight."

"Sounds fair." I mumbled.

We drifted into a comfortable silence before Haymitch lifted himself from the table quickly, and left. I returned to my room as well; ready to face the onslaught of nightmares sure to follow.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Sooo I'm super happy about ****h****ow many people ****h****ave favorited and followed t****h****is story and I hope more will. More reviews please, they help me know what to do and write! We meet Finnick in this c****h****apter, and I'm sorry but I had to c****h****ange is age! It seemed weird for ****h****im to be 3 years older t****h****an Maison, so I made ****h****im 13! YAY! Bye for now!**

**T****h****e magnificent ****h****unger games belong to Susan Collins! **

A gentle shaking in the morning had awoken me from my garish nightmare. It was about a new born baby, but it was savage. It was born to a sweet loving mother, but it killed her quickly, making it seem like she had died bringing it life. When the rest of the family came, the mutant attacked them. It quickly killed other people, luring them in to their deaths. They came willingly to the creature, before it seemed to extinguish the light of their souls. I stood helplessly by, warning people of the child, but they simple didn't believe me, and they paid with their lives for that mistake.

I peeled my eyelids back to find a concerned Haymitch leaning over me. "I thought you were dead princess," he muttered. "You didn't make a single move when I came in, didn't even look like you were breathing!" he seemed to look relieved that I was awake, but I couldn't grasp why.

I knew why this occurred, when I was caught in a twisted night-tale, my body seemed to go into shock. My breathing slowed and I made no movement what so ever, so I created the illusion of looking dead. My father told me I even did it as an infant. He woke up many nights to shuffle over to my crib and think he had lost me. This was how I knew my horrific nightmares had plagued me since birth.

My nightmares seemed different every time. Some involved me, some didn't. In many there was thousands of deaths, none of which I could stop. Others involved the rest of my living family, terrified of the monster I had become. All of them had one thing in common. In every single one of my terrors I had experienced, they all revolved around some sort of a mother dyeing. It was usually mine, but others had come every once and a while.

"Well I'm fine now," I growled, displeased that my first sight and smell that morning had to be Haymitch's drunken face and breathe, " And on second thought, stop calling me princess!" this wasn't a pleasant asking, this was a command, a command that was going to be followed through.

I sharply shooed him out of my compartment, and turned to marvel at what I believed was called a closet. I had never had more than two pairs of clothing in my life, and was memorized by the fact that this small room was filled with garments, both terribly showy, and perfectly plain. I decided on a pair of pants a green soft shirt, and leather jacket.

Staring at my clothes I knew Lark had taken advantage of this. She was always one to care about beauty, much unlike me to her contempt. On many accounts she had tried to dress me up, and forced me to act like a proper lady, but I would have no will to go along with this. So those moments merely lasted hours before I peeled the dress of for pants and ventured into my woods.

I slid to the large, attached bathroom and contemplated my looks in the mirror. Lank brown hair fell messily out of the braids my sister had slaved over for the reaping, and dead, soulless eyes stared at me. There was a splash of freckles across my nose, and I hopelessly wished I could scrub them off like dirt. It wasn't often when I felt insecure; I mainly avoided mirrors to postpone moments like this. I prayed I could be beautiful like my sister, or have the strong, powerful features of my once living mother, but these blessings never came to me. I would forever be the plain, powerless girl, the one that would never leave a mark on her unforgiving world.

Putting myself in a sour mood I trudged through the corridor to eat breakfast with Ensai, Haymitch, and my siblings. I knew that they would both be awake already, because every day I was brought to life by my brother and sister banging around our shabby cabin, getting ready for school. They, once again being like my father, were early risers, and drug me out of bed to make sure I wasn't late for school.

Sure enough when I reached the dining room Lark was wrapped in a shimmering gold dress. Gold earrings swished in her earlobes and her hair was set perfectly into place. Oaken sat next to her, devouring every food placed in front of him. He looked freshly washed and I realized I had yet taken a shower. My family had taken every opportunity to use the fortune around us, but I had hardly touched it.

I decided to participate more at eating that morning, but my stomach seemed to fill almost immediately with the rich food. Ensai held airy conversation with my sister, but when she started to talk to me, my monotone, one worded responses shut her down, and she returned to talking with Lark once again. I knew I could probably be kinder, and make Ensai like me better, but I was not a people pleaser in any way. The days seemed to fly onward, until we unfortunately arrived at our death place, the capitol.

I'm still not entirely sure of all that happened during my time in the capitol. I tried to cut out and forget as much as I possibly could, and my brain had been doing a remarkably good job at that. I remember being very confused at the capitolites. The things they wore were completely insane; it was like a giant city full of Ensais! They hurried around like they had important places to be, and there high- pitched squeaking of an accent pierced my eardrums. Strange animals I had never seen before sat in purses, and unreal shoes clicked on the polished floors of the elaborate train station. Women's outfits were taller then their bodies, and men's hair and mustaches swirled in berserk patterns.

I remember feeling outmost terror as I watched tributes stab knifes and throw spears throughout our chamber. I only saw joy and anger flash through their cold eyes, as they destroyed dummy after dummy. I mainly focused on my bow skills in the training center. I knew perfectly well how to survive Mother Nature; I just need to learn how to survive humans. I went everyday to the bow room, and shot perfectly at every target, moving or not. To my pleasure none of the others tributes seemed to even know how to shoot a bow, so that put me one small step ahead. I crept out sometimes to throw knifes or practice with a trainer, but as soon as another tribute came near me I skidded away.

For my evaluation from the game makers I received a measly 6, at least the other tributes would not see me as a threat. I tried to shoot a bow, but my shaking fingers couldn't grasp the arrow and pull it tight, so I missed the target almost every time. They were very unimpressed.

One of the things I remember intensely was my interview with the greatly renowned Ceaser Flickerman. I was slipped into a soft bright white dress and my hair was curled and cascaded down my back. Marania, my stylist, had coated my eyes in white glitter, and much to my dismay my entire body was covered in a gently spray of these small stones.

All of my stylists had been taken back by my eyes. As soon as I walked in the stylist room they crowded around me. They marveled about the green streaks, commentating on how gorgeous and unbelievable they were. Some of them tried to console me that everyone in the Capitol would want eyes like mine, but that only made me feel even more like a freak. I didn't want the capitol people to sport eyes like mine; I would surely feel even more different from my people in 12.

Hours passed by until I was the last child standing in the hallway, waiting to be called out. I stared around me at all of the mentors watching their tributes breathe for the last time. My eyes lingered on a young 13 year old boy, was he a mentor? I suddenly remembered that last year a boy from district four named Finnick had won the games, one of the youngest ever. As I marveled at him he turned to look at me. He smirked as he caught me staring and I jerked away, embarrassed. I sneaked a small peak at him under my extremely long fake eyelashes, and found him still staring. He quickly stuck is tongue out at me, and my scarlet face seemed to make him chuckle. I decided to turn away from him for good.

I was pushed back into the real world and remembered I was next for the interview. My sister had gone for the sexy, striking look, and my brother looked tough and strong. I was obviously forced to be innocence and oblivious, even though I was more rough and cruel then both my brother and sister combined.

Oaken was taken of the stage with a great applause, and my fingers began to shake with anxiety. I shut my eyes, focusing on breathing. I received a poor score in training, so this would have to be my chance to get sponsors. I needed to pull this off well.

Suddenly my name boomed around me and I was escorted to Ceaser's stage by the servants lingering around. "AHH, Maison my darling", Ceaser's strange accent purred," What a pleasure it is!" I briefly forgot how to use my tongue to form coherent words and I stood there, like a deer before you let your arrow fly.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Okay guys seriously, I love all the reviews I've been getting! Thank you so much for following and favoring this story and I hope I can continue to write this well! If you have any suggestions, please leave a review! We get to see a bit of a happier Maison in this chapter, and we see more of Finnick! Hope you like it! Love ya! Bye now.**

"Maison, sweetheart?" Ceaser worriedly questioned me.

I realized what I was doing and immediately tried to fix my brutal mistake. No one would want to sponsor an 11 year old girl in the first place, much less if she couldn't even speak in her interview.

"Oh Ceaser!" I laughed what I hoped didn't sound like a nervous giggle." I was just taken away by how amazing this whole experience is!" I smiled sweetly at the crowd, making them awww, man these capitol people were easy to play!

"You're alright darling!"He gaudily laughed."So Maison, what's it like to be a sweet, tender little 11 year old coming into the games?"

"It's a bit overwhelming, knowing that I have to go against children much older and stronger than me." I pretended to sniffle, whipping away a none existent tear. Ceaser and the entire crowed let out a chorus of awwws, as if they knew what real sadness was. If only they knew the real truth behind my skin, would they respect me more, would I be more than a pathetic baby to them? Standing before them for the last time before I grotesquely died.

I had yet made direct eye contact with Ceaser so when I looked up to him he gasped. "Oh my! Maison, your eyes are simply gorgeous, ravishing! Folks look at this girl's eyes! They are honestly amazing!" I blushed as I looked out into the crowd and their reactions comically mirrored Ceaser's.

"Thank you," I muttered shyly.

"Did you parents have eyes like this, because I know your siblings don't!"

"Umm no, nobody in my family has them except me."

"Well they are one of the prettiest things I've ever seen, simply beautiful..."

He went on about my eyes while I starred at the Capitol people. Dyed skin, fake hair, dresses made of live animals! Men stared at me in a way that made me feel highly uncomfortable and when I quickly glared at them the still continued to stare! How could human being be like this? I shot the human being idea down rapidly when I remembered they kill innocent children for sport.

I was drawn from my brain when I heard Ceaser speaking my name. "Maison, Maison, anybody home?" he laughed rudely at his stupid joke, while I painfully faked a sweet smile at him

"Sorry Ceaser, sometimes I just retreat into my brain, and I don't come out easily!"

"Well aren't you just the cutest little angel!?" he gushed.

Feeling a pause in the conversation I nervously fingered my necklace and Ceaser glanced down at it. "Is this your token?"

"Yes it was my mothers." I quietly breathed.

"It's breathtaking so simple yet elegant, a little deer in the forest! You know Maison, you remind me of a sweet innocent deer! Doesn't she folks!? "He turned to look at the capitolites and they nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh really? My family called me that all the time when I was a baby!"

"Really? Well we will have to steal it!" He laughed one last time then said his farewell to me. "We wish you the best of luck districts 12's little deer!" he called as I walked away.

I waved at the crowd as they were chanting little deer while I walked of the stage. A ghost of a smile played on my lips as I remembered many hot summer days sprinting throu the forest, while my ever patient dad called, "Slow down my little deer!" My smile fell as soon as it came when I remembered it was the horrid capitol people calling my name, and I would never see my father again. 

When I walked into the back hallway, I was surprised when I saw the one and only Finnick Odair casually leaning on the wall next to the elevator. I tried to march past him until he reached out to grab my arm, pulling me closer to his face "What are you doing?" I hissed. I still was a little bit sore about how he had embarrassed me before my interview.

"Relax" he whispered, " I just heard what Ceaser was saying about your eyes, and I simply had to see for myself, and I must say, they are exquisite." Finnick stretched up to more closely inspect my eyes, and I silently giggled at how I was taller than him. A smile must have broken through my face, and Finnick quickly questioned me.

"What are you laughing at!? " He grumbled

"I just think it's funny you have to look up to me! " I let a small laugh fall out of my lips.

"O shut up," he moaned. "I'm growing, one day I'll have to look down at you! " He grabbed me by the waist and his face got to close for my comfort, so I swiftly backed away from him. As soon as I realized he mentioned, "one day…", as if I would return, angry Maison came back, and I snapped at him.

"Well thanks, but if you don't mind, I liked to get back to my room! I only have one more night to sleep peacefully before I'm killed," I fumed. I turned away from him and stiffly walked the rest of the way to the elevator.

"I'll join you then" he muttered. The elevator was drowned in awkward silence until eventually Finnick spoke up." You'll make it back."

I choked on my spit, "Excuse me?!"

"I said you will make it back; there will be a day when I'm taller then you..."

"I know what you said, but why?! You have tributes of your own to in courage, why are you talking to the outcast of the worst district about winning?! You don't know if I'll make it! I'm 11 freaking years old! There are 18 year olds out there that have arms that could strangle me in seconds! Why do you think I could win!? "I seethed. If anyone from 12 made it out of that death trap, it would be my brother or sister, people worthy of living again. Not me.

"You're a fighter Maison, I can see it" then the elevator dinged, and he got out without another word, leaving me in a boiling, stunned silence. What the heck did he mean when he said he could see it? Did I look like some war calling soldier, heading into a battle?! As I watched him walk into the hallway of his floor, he turned to smirk at me, and without any hesitation I rudely flipped my finger up. He mocked hurt, throwing is hand onto his forehead, but I did not smile. Finnick Odair truly made me want to kick him in the family jewels.

I said nothing to my loitering brother or sister as I roughly brushed past them in the living room and headed to my compartment. I saw that my rudeness had taken them back; it was our last night to say goodbye, but for once I didn't care if my siblings were okay. I was always looking out for them, even though they were older! Who was looking out for me? Wondering if I was okay, or how I felt?! I realized my dad did that before I was booked to be killed, but my dad wasn't here anymore.

Once I reached my room I flung myself onto the plush bed and sharply screamed into a pillow. Life wasn't fair! Nothing was ever fair! I was brought into this world with death on my tail. Every day I was reminded that death followed me! Tomorrow I would die in an arena before I even lived a measly quarter of my ghastly life! I shook myself sternly. I would not break, I would stay strong. I would face the facts. I contemplated my options as I fingered the fringe on a small pillow, lay here and feel sorry for myself, or apologize to my siblings?

I chose the latter and lifted myself of the bed, briskly tiptoeing down the cramped hallway to the direction of their rooms. What would I say, I briefly thought. I was never good with words. I softly knocked on Larks metal door, and when she opened I did the only reasonable thing I could think of. I latched onto her waist tightly and bawled. "I'm sorry", I cried, finally letting tears fall freely for the first time in weeks.

She pulled me into her room and sat on her bed, all the while I clung to her like a child to her mother." Oh Maison, she cooed "it's alright, it will all be alright."

I looked up at her, "How can you say that lark, tomorrow we are going to die!"

"All we need is our hope my little deer" she mumbled, using my toddler nickname, which I was now known for in the capitol.

I lay there with her that night as we cried together. We cried for our poor father, he was most likely dying of loneliness in our house alone. We cried for Oaken, and how uncommonly strong he was being for us. We cried about our miserable, sob-story lives. After losing what felt like every drop of water in my body, we eventually felt comfort with one another and drifted into a once -in –a- life- time calm sleep. And for the first time in my life it was ironically peaceful, empty of the nightmares constantly following me.

I was revived early that morning when Lark pulled away from me, pulling on the last pair of presentable clothes she would ever wear, and moaning as she stretched. I stared lifelessly at the ceiling, rubbing my silver necklace, wishing it could cast some sort of force field over me and my siblings, hiding us from the true darkness of our messed up lives.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Once again thanks for the reviews, favorites, and follows, please continue! Just for a little warning, the next scenes are going to get a little intense. Maison is entering the games and you know what happens there! There will be violence and the sort! This is a little shorter than usual because it's just about her experience coming into the arena. Not actually being there! Hope you enjoy! Bye**

My brain plagued me with vicious thoughts of death as my stylist boarded with me onto a hover craft, one that would take me to the place I would take my last breath. I had said close to nothing all morning except when I said my goodbyes with Haymitch. Lark tearfully hugged and kissed me before she left with her outrageously dressed stylist, but I only hugged her back. It would be harder to say goodbye. Oaken awkwardly wrapped one arm around my shoulder before he disappeared, but I was happy he did. It was the most physical contact I ever remember us having, and I was almost grateful for it.

We were pushed along until we reached the giant mouth, and then I was forcefully nudged inside. I stood in awe at the unbelievable insides of the monster. Everything looked freshly polished and there wasn't a speck around. It was so large you could have fit all of my district 12 seam people inside with ease. I sat in the cold metal interior of the ship, and reminded myself to breathe every once and a while. Mariana and I were they only two people in our ship, and we sat in dead silence as time ticked by.

A sharply dressed man came by and snagged my arm at the elbow, almost pulling it out of the socket. He said absolutely nothing as he pulled out what looked like a gun with a needle intact, and I wildly tried to whip my arm away from him. What was this insane man trying to do to me?

"Maison, pumpkin, relax" my stylist chided. "It's just a device they inject into your forearm to be able to find you, where ever you are in the arena. We want to make sure the cameras are always on your pretty little face! It won't hurt much, it's called a tracker!"

I looked at her quizzically. How did she have any idea what it felt like, but I un-tensed my arm and let him slip the needle inside, which didn't hurt. Shooting the tracker in was the painful part. It light up when it was intact, and the man rudely released my arm and huffed as he walked away. I pulled my arm back and slowly rubbed to try and work out the now sore spot spreading in my arm. I hated the people in the Capitol. At least I wouldn't be seeing much more of them soon...

We flew for almost 10 more dreadful minutes, and I wanted to pull my hair out of its neatly done ponytail. Once we landed we were directed into a building that looked half underground, and Mariana pulled me  
quickly into the death trap.

She and I were shoved into a series of small hallways. One of them would lead me into the room where I would be lifted into the games. I counted each step. Remembering what it was like to see, and feel, and breath. I knew my opportunities with all my senses were running extremely low.

My stylist pulled my arena clothes onto my body, thick thermals I was already beginning to sweat in, a large coat with fur lining and pants that felt well insulated. I was defiantly not excited for this arena! She secured my token around my neck. While she latched the fragile clasp she looked me in the eyes.

"Oh my little deer!" she suddenly sobbed. She threw her too skinny arms around my neck and cried snotty tears onto my clothes. Her strange clothes had jeweled sticks poking out, and they proceeded to poke me in the face.

Was she actually sad I was going to die? Was a Capitol women feeling something other than envy or lust? Was she actually realizing she would never see my again, and it wouldn't be fun?

I awkwardly patted her back as she wept onto my shoulder, and I heard the countdown. "SIXTY SECONDS TO LAUNCH"  
I drew a shaky breath and let go of Mariana. She quickly wiped her smearing mascara and shoved me into the tube. Sadly smiling she waved as it in closed around me. The tube made a sucking sound as it locked, and I finally felt the true fear swallow me. I felt around the tube and realized it was perfectly secure, no way out now.

I slowly felt myself rising and my legs began to shake. I focused on evenly breathing while my pad crept to the arena. Would I die right away, or would I live for awhile? Would a career kill me, or a lucky tribute? My mind flooded with these worrisome questions. Sunlight burned my adjusting eyes when I finally reached the top of the tube, settling itself into place. I was here.

I quickly looked at my surroundings as the countdown came. We were in the middle of a frozen landscape, snow was everywhere and trees seemed to form a barricade on one side, and a babbling brook whooshed by me on the right. I instantly felt a chill seep deep in to my bones as I looked around. I could hardly see due to the haywire clouds of snow.

BOOM, I heard the sound of an explosion and my head registered someone has stepped of their plate before the beginning and was blown to bits. I briefly wondered who the unfortunate child was; hopefully it was not Oaken or Lark. A sound of cannon blast followed the death and suddenly the timer hit 5 seconds." 4,3,2,1... Let the 66th hunger games begin!"

I leapt off my platform.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N This is a warning! This chapter is starting Maison's time in the arena and it's intense and violent! Review about your thoughts, or what you would like to happen! I want to know what you're thinking about this story! Please continue to Favorite and follow! You guys are great! Unto the story! Bye**

I leapt of my plate and soared through the air like my nick name. My ponytail whipped my across the face and it stung from the cold. I never knew I could move this fast, I was flying. I saw tributes fade behind me as I surged forward. Snowflakes began to gather in my eyelashes and my toes felt unnaturally cold.

A blizzard spit around us and my body seemed to numb instantly from the bitter weather. The cornucopia was covered in at least a foot of snow and it dropped off dangerously on the sides. How are any of us going to survive this climate? I thought negatively to myself. It would probably kill the majority of us before our human enemies did.

My feet went faster than my brain and suddenly I was in the cornucopia, treasure at my finger tips. I reached it before the careers, or any of the other tributes had, and I scooped survival objects into a large backpack. Water-bottles, tins of food, matches, and blankets filled my bag as I searched for my weapon.

Where was a bow?! I cursed as I scanned the area twice. Then I saw it. My weapon. My chance of survival, on another girl's back! I needed that bow more than food or water or blankets! Darkness seized my brain as I picked up a knife.

I was sent back into a dream from summers ago. Mr. Everdeen and I were in a deep wooded glen full of scurrying small animals. I didn't understand why he had brought us here, when there was bigger game to get but I raised my bow anyway, intent on taking one down. Suddenly his hand fell in front of my arrow and I hazardly shot upwards to avoid his body. The once peaceful mood flew out the window as my arrow broke into the canopy of tree branches, disturbing the creatures. 

"What are you doing!?" I hissed, displeased he had taken a kill from me. 

"Maison," he grunted "why don't you try something besides a bow?" 

"But I can only kill with my bow!" I whined, confused why he was commanding me to change my tactics now. 

"I understand that, but what if one day you don't have a bow?" 

"I will always have a bow!" I groaned, sometimes this man made absolutely no sense! He had been teaching me since day one to shoot a bow! How did he know if that one day I wouldn't have my bow? I never went into the woods without my weapon of choice. 

Suddenly he turned my body toward his, and looked me straight into the eyes." What if one day you don't, and it depends on life or death?"

This question now racked my brain as I dumbly stared at the girl with my bow. As I child I never found the importance of that day, never understand the true reason he asked me that. I just thought was being his strange, questioning self, but I understood his question now.  
I understood now why he forced me to throw blade after blade at tree trunks, insisting I do each one perfect. How he would force me to tie ropes to set traps, and train with a child sized axe. I hated him at the time, thought he was being unusually cruel. Now I was somewhat thankful for his protesting I nail every tree before I return home that night.

My fuzzy brain cleared as soon as the throwing knife flew from my grip. It cut through the air with deadly grace and I realized what exactly I was doing. I killed many things before, but never a human. I watched in horrific terror as the blade disappeared between the young girl's shoulder blades, and she shuddered strangely to the ground. Perfect hit.

As soon as the knife broke her fragile skin all hell broke loose in our arena. Children were screaming around me and blood shot dark stains onto my clothes. I heard the sinister laughs of the careers around me as well as the pathetic moans of their victims. The smell of blood was too strong and I struggled to clear my head.

I was tackled to the ground when a large male tribute slammed into me. The snow made a soft landing but is forceful body started to crush my bones. He raised his hands around my head and I instantly knew what his plan for me was. His face was unreadable, but I knew he was enjoying every minute of this. It was the tribute from 2, the one with the little sister. I vaguely wondered where she was, probably killing like her brother, but I was forced to think of other matter as his hands tightened around me. I bite, screamed, and kicked as he went to snap my small neck. I kneed him in the gut and he sucked in his breath, shock popping on his face. I used this opportunity to roll out from under his grasp and fled from the attacker.

I chocked back an equal amount of tears and vomit as I raced towards the first kill I had. I could cry later, I needed that bow now. As soon as I reached her I understand how hard it would be to control my sick. Red snow seeped around her, and she looked like a broken porcelain doll, mouth open and eyes wide. She had to be no more than 8 years old, and I had taken her life. At least I did it quickly.

I pulled the bow from her cold body and slipped the bag of arrows on my back. I tried to keep my fingers clean from her wound, but they seemed to be coated. I wiped them in the utterly cold snow as I searched for my siblings.

I found Oaken immediately, fist-fighting another male tribute for a knife. He punched him hard enough to knock him out and grasped the weapon. We made eye contact and nodded; set on finding the sibling we both liked the best. I sprinted around the cornucopia to see Lark's slender frame retreading into the concealing trees. Had she even grabbed anything?! I bounded after her, and I turned to see Oaken close behind.

After chasing Lark for a good 15 minutes, I noticed she made no intention of slowing down. How did she run like that? Id never witnessed the girl jog for 5 minutes before claiming she needed to rest! My ragged breath burned my throat and lungs from the chill and I didn't think I could continue.

"Lark!" I pleaded, "Lark stop, slow down, it's me Maison!"

I saw her wild blonde bun whip around as she made certain it was me. She slowed down her pace a considerable amount and I finally reached her.

"Maison!" she cried, as if she hadn't seen me in days! "I thought you were dead, you went straight into the cornucopia! Oaken went in to find you, but I truly thought you were dead! Oh Maison!" she tackled me into the piles if snow before I pushed her off

"We can hug later, we need to find shelter now!"

Oaken slowly caught up to us, huffing and puffing the whole way. Then we were off, hoping to find some sort of protection from the better cold.

In a pure stroke of luck, we found a tiny alcove, back into the side of a rough rocky hill. It cut off the cold supply of wind and allowed us to catch our breath. We sat in the small hole, staring at each other as our breathing made swelling steam clouds around us. It was strangely quite and absent of my siblings natural chatter. I stole a short look at Lark and she shook violently. Not from the cold.

None of us knew how many cannons had sounded, so we would have to wait until night to see how much competition we had left.

Oaken suddenly broke the silence, "Did you kill anyone?" he blurted out. I knew it was directed at me, but his harsh question took me off guard.

I looked at my siblings, Oaken appeared grimly curious, but Lark looked horrified.

"Umm, no." I sputtered. There was no chance I would tell my family what I had already done to that young girl minutes into the game. They would be forever terrified of me, like the dreams I had every night, scared of the monster I had become." Did you?" I asked Oaken, trying to get the attention of my face.

"Knocked somebody out, but that's about it." he replied.

Thinking of Oaken's fight made me wonder why he was even there. My brother was not one to get in the middle of fights, especially a fight like the blood-bath at the cornucopia. Lark said he went to find me, but how could that be true? This was still the same brother that had hated me the moment I started breathing.

"I think we should stay here for a while." Lark murmured.

"Great idea," I comforted. Lark's terrified face made me want to cry. She looked like a baby bird, thrown into a cage of prowling cats.

I surveyed are little home, small, cold and dark. The walls had uneven jagged rock sticking out, and I reminded my siblings to not get near the rock. I knew there was a camera in here somewhere, but I didn't feel like searching for it. It was probably microscopic, slipped into a rock ledge, watching us suffer.

I suddenly remembered the pack strapped on my shoulder and I flipped it around unto my lap, zipping open the largest pocket. My siblings surrounded around me as I pulled out my spoils. I handed Oaken a blanket, and explained to Lark we would share. There wasn't much in the sack, but I hoped it would be enough for all of us. 

I slipped out of our baby cave to find some damp sticks for fire, when the anthem began. I called my siblings out and we stood shivering, staring at the sky

"One from 3, the pair from 5, 4 from 8... "I muttered slowly to myself until I lost count."I think I got sixteen" I noted.

"I got seventeen." Oaken confessed.

"Me too," Lark babbled

"Seventeen it is," I confirmed.

Oaken and lark returned to our cave as I resumed my search for dry sticks, a seemingly impossible task in this landscape. I eventually scaled a tree to rip off the dry limbs in the center, protected by the falling snow by the outside needles. Branches lunged out at me, threatening to cut me open. Some actually did; these were not the trees I often climbed at home. Their cuts unnaturally stung my flesh, and I let out a pathetic whimper. After I gathered up the needed fire supplies, I continued to sit in the towering pine, safe from the world of destruction below me. Seventeen down, 19 left. How long would it be until I was in the number gone, hopefully before my siblings were.

Slipping back down the trunk I returned to my family, letting Oaken start a fire before we curled up on the frigid rock floor to sleep. Lark tucked into my side and I wrapped my arms around her, breathing her in. She still smelled fresh. Oaken wrapped his arms around Lark, trapping her in the middle of us, and she sighed. It almost felt like we were at home, sleeping in our small shared bed.

Without any warning, a shrill, agonized scream ripped through the night, making Lark shudder, and I abruptly remembered exactly where we were. 


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N so I have no excuse for how bad I did at updating this! I'll try harder! Thanks for the reviews and follow/favorites, keep it up. Hope you like this anticipated chapter. It is pretty long so I hope its good. Sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes, my computer sucks is all I have to say! See you next time!**

**Disclaimer- the artful hunger games belongs to Susan Collins, NOT me!**

Day 3

Being in this arena would either kill you physically or kill you mentally. Either way no one ever one these games. We had been in this torture chamber for 2 days, today would be our 3 dread day. Nothing happened much, except for 3 cannons and a lack of any surprises. We never ventured far from our cave, so we wouldn't really know.

I saw the effects the games had on Lark almost immediately. She was being squashed mentally, each cannon, each scream, ripped down the fragile walls of her mind. She never talked anymore, and when she did it was a nonsense babbling that seemed to spill out of her lips. It had no meaning whatsoever. She jumped at every noise or touch, and she never smiled at all. I hadn't seen her do it once sense we got in the cave.

I woke up that morning in a cold sweat, before my siblings for once. My dreams seemed to be intensified in this place, and I had no desire to try to force my eyes closed once again. I untangled my limbs from Lark and rolled onto the cave floor, the bitter rock electrocuting my jumping nerves.

I watched the sun shoot of the wintery ice, blinding the cave with brilliant light. Sparse trees blocked some of the rock opening, and it was on the side of the hill. We would most likely be safe for a while, hidden away, but the large hole would prove a threat for us soon.

We survived the first days, but how much longer? How much longer would we be stuck in this hole in the wall, tucked away from the rest of the tributes? How much longer could we sit and wait before one of us was killed pulled away from the rest of our family.

As soon as these words crossed my mind, I heard a twig snap outside. The break sounded much too strong to be a small animal or vermin, and my body went on red alert. Somebody was out there, and close to our cavern.

"Oaken, Lark, get up!" I kicked them both, bringing them to life.

"What now?" Oaken asked, sleep still evident in his eyes. He out stretched his strong arms and they distilled some of the stale air pooling in our cavern.

"We need to go, now!" My words were sharp and quite. There was something out there, and I didn't want it hearing us! The quicker they found us, the sooner we would all be died.

"Ugh, Maison, why? I was finally getting some actual sleep!" Lark moaned, rubbing her cold limbs. It was the first coherent sentence she had said in days. Her blank eyes blinked at me, seeming to slightly regaining their usual shine. They were whipped away of light and disappeared as soon as the next words fell out of my mouth.

"There's someone outside, and I'm going to bet it is the careers! So we need to be as quite as possible, pack up, and go. Now!"

My command registered on their faces and they hastily threw things back into the sack. Oaken armed himself with his fought over knife, and I slipped the bow I spilt blood for onto my back. Lark grabbed the bulky pack and stayed close behind us, preferring not to arm herself with a weapon.

We slipped out of the cave mouth, when we could hear the creature crystal clear. Or more like the group of creatures. They sounded way too close for my comfort, and I started shoving Oaken and Lark to go faster.

"I know somebody's got to be around here, multiple people by the looks of the tracks!" A deep voice grunted. He was obviously having a heated conversation with someone else.

"Well it seems to me like you're too stupid to track people in the first place!" A shrill feminine voice snapped. It didn't sound very old, but still very in control. It was the voice of someone who was used to always getting their way.

"It's not that hard to track when there's fresh footprints in the snow!" The previous voice raged. Obviously he had had this conversation before with the young girl, and was tired of repeating it.

Dang! Why didn't I remember the snow would easily show our tracks, making us prime targets!? People could just follow our pressed in feet marks, and find exactly where we were staying!

"Both of you shut up" A man's voice fumed. He was evidently this packs leader, and he wasn't pleased at his troops multiple fights and bickering. "I think I hear something!"

Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap! Neither Oaken nor Lark were very quite walkers, and you could probably here them a mile away. Their feet trudged along the ground, shuffling snow and breaking wet sticks.

"Please try to pick up your feet." I pleaded to both of them. I could tell the both tried to follow my asking, but it was no use. They still sounded like a heard of wild beasts, storming through the forest. When they tried to be quieter it also only really slowed them down, making the process more consuming and terrifying.

I heard the quickening pace of the group behind us, and I began to push my family to a large pine tree. I would not let any of us be killed off in a chase!

"Climb as fast as you can!" I ordered. The pack was right on our heels! I had barely enough time after my siblings to reach the safety of the branches when the group plowed past us. Idiots.

I didn't have a chance to really make out faces, but I recognized the evil boy from 2, with another large male tribute. Like I suspected they had a very young, petite girl with them. She was probably district 2's younger sister. It seemed odd that there were only 3 careers left! Maybe the rest were back at their permanent camp at the cornucopia.

I made my siblings sit in the tree with me for a considerable amount of time, scared the careers would somehow come back. They didn't really argue with me, but I knew they would prefer to be on the ground then in a giant pine. While we sat in the tree, we had a slow, quite conversation, but it was nothing we used to have.

I wasn't big on telling stories, or talking about my personal achievements, but my siblings were! I could ask one question and my siblings could talk for at least 5 minutes straight, whether the question be about what we were having for dinner, or what did they plan to do in their lives. They were always enthusiastic, putting meaning into words and making listening to them interesting. It was nothing like when I tried to tell a mangled story of myself.

This morning I was greeted with soft, one sentenced answers from mostly Oaken, but occasionally Lark would say a senseless word, and that unnerved me more than the possibility that the careers could still be under us, waiting for the kill. They avoided eye-contact with me, and their responses were clipped off, like they wanted to say more, but physically could not talk a second longer.

After camping out in our tree for a few hours, we decided to talk about where we were going to stay now. It seemed almost too risky to go back to our cave when the mysterious career group had thundered by dangerously close, but no one really knew exactly where else we should go. So the cave it was.

We walked the short distance to our hole, and crawled through the wide open entrance, I would have to disguise it better soon. It needed some sort of cover over the gaping hole, or we would be soon found.

Making sure my siblings were content, I slipped out, breathing in the clean air. I found a pine tree with perfect sized branches, and I began to rip all of them off. Dragging them back to our hideout I propped them around the hole, with just enough light to wake us up, but no one could easily see through.

Dusk came quicker then I planned, and I had a feeling it had to do with the game makers. Sighing I returned to my family.

We finished off the last of our meager supplies that night, and it put everyone in a bad mood. Hunting would be needed in the morning, and only I could deliver. So Oaken and Lark would try to busy themselves in a way that made them feel almost useful, but I knew they hated it. I didn't want to hunt either because then I would have to leave them, and there was no way in heck I would agree to that.

Putting out the pathetic fire, we all slipped into our blanket, rejoicing in each other's warmth. Lark slept farther away from me that night, and closer to Oaken. I knew that it probably didn't mean anything, but I was hurt none the less.

Balling into myself, I jammed my eyelids closed, but the things I saw made them fly open again, and I knew it would be another sleepless night.

The sun brought defrosting warmth into our hole, and it brushed my siblings' faces, giving them a soft glow while they slept. They pine needle door made the light fill into odd places, like patchwork on their delicate skin. Breathing identical to each other, they stirred, but quickly fell back into their dreams. I could not manage to find a drop of sleep the night before, so I decided to stay awake and watch out for them, and me.

Five more cannons fired off last night, and I Knew the careers were finally beginning to fulfill their duties. I, for one, was amazed we had survived this long! It was the fifth day and all the tributes of district 12 were still alive and well!

Scratch that, we were far from well. My happy thoughts sister was now plagued by nightmares and screams, and my brother's sullen face made even me want to tear up, but we were alive.

There were only 10 tributes left, and me and the people next to me made up that number! I had no clue why nobody had found us yet, or why the game makers hadn't forced us into the war path, but I was hoping that day was later and not sooner!

I dug into the jagged stone wall next to me with a sharp rock, over and over again, and the sound made me grit my teeth. I leaned against the wall and felt the stone spikes poke into my back, but I ignored it. It was good to finally feel something real on my numb skin. The protruding wall gave me the sense that I was still here and alive. Oaken stirred under my feet, and I paused my tedious activity to stare at him.

He had his arms and hands wrapped protectively around larks shaking shoulders, and he had pulled her closer to him, hiding her tensed face in his chest. He was being an amazing brother, even to me! He talked to me and didn't look at me with venom in his eyes. Somehow we both knew our time together was short.

The sunlight started to narrow in slights on his eyelids, and he cracked them open, awakened by the sun like every day at home. He smiled a gentle smile at me, and it warmed my ice cold heart. Unwrapping his limbs from larks trembling body he sat up, stretching away the tightness that came from a cold sleep.

I probably looked kind of creepy, staring over him and lark when I should be asleep. He was most likely wondering if I had been doing this all night, but he said nothing about it, and I was grateful.

Rubbing his muscles he looked around his surroundings like he had never been here before, and I knew he was still partially asleep. As he forcefully brushed the sleep from his eyes, Lark bolted up right.

Her pale hands clawed at her head, and it looked like she was desperately trying to keep her head together. Silent sobs racked her thin frame, and her nails made claw marks on her temples and checks. This had happened yesterday and she still had the scars to prove it.

Bending down I reached over to pull her claw like hands from her face before she seriously hurt herself, but she recoiled from my ever gentle touch. Shocked, I stare at her, but I didn't see my sister.

I saw a petrified child. I had seen this face many times from a small girl that stayed well behind Lark and her children when they walked to school. She talked to no one, and her wide eyes only seemed to hold fear. I vaguely knew her mother beat her, and her father spent most of his income on the little amount of alcohol we had in 12. She never ate lunch at school like most children, and she looked like a bag of boys compared to her already deathly thin classmates. Once, in an odd burst of friendliness, I stopped on the road to say hello to her, but she jerked away, protecting her face like I was about to give her a blow. I never talked to her again.

These were the eyes I saw on larks face as she berserkly scrambled to the other side of the wall. Her breathing was a course heaving and she protected her light eyes from my dark ones.

"MONSTER!"She screamed, her voice full of hate and pure loathing. "You killed my mother, you ruined my life! I have never loved you, and I NEVER will love you!"

I made no attempt at stopping the tears that streamed down my face instantly. My Lark would never say that to me in my entire life. She would never hurt me in a way like that. Once, in the safety of our cabin in 12, I quietly told her I felt guilty for a mother, and she did her common Lark thing. She wrapped me up in her arms shushed me, saying it was in no way my fault, and that she loved me no matter what. Where was my sister?

Oaken rushed to her, clamping his hand around her mouth as she bite and screamed. He whispered things in her ears I couldn't hear, and rocked her back and forth in his arms. She tried to push away from him but quickly realized who would win this war, and went slack in his arms.

I sat dumb struck in my previous position, tears rocketing from my eyes. My whole body was rigid, completely shocked at the scene that had just unfolded around me. I bet the capitol was giddily soaking in the drama.

After a few minutes of complete silence, something in Lark seemed to snap back in place and she pushed Oaken softly off her. She went to me and pulled me to her chest. I felt her crazed heart flutter under her rib cage, and her fleshless body was paper thin.

"Ssssorry..." she stuttered. I accepted the apology immediately and grabbed her back. Choking back my now dying sobs I burrowed my wet face in her neck. I could feel Oaken's worried stares, we both knew I never accepted an apology that quickly, even when it was Lark, but I didn't care. I would not lose my sister. I would not lose her like this.


	8. Chapter 8

BOOM! Our hide out rattled with the sound of the cannon. One more child had gone, 9, including me, alive. Right after the first crash came another explosion, so scratch that. 8 tributes left including me. These games were coming to a close.

Shaking sobs turned to slow breaths on my icy neck as I finally pulled away. Air choked me, getting swirled up in my throat, and did the exact opposite if it's job. I didn't realize I was breathing as heavy as Lark until she pulled away and I realized it wasn't her frantic breath, it was mine. My Shaking fingers rubbed each other, and suddenly I felt like I was going crazy.

I needed out of this cramped cave. I needed to run and scream and feel the chill of wind dance down my skin. I needed to be by myself and breathe my own air. The once cozy feeling in the room around me turned claustrophobic, and I began to push past Oaken, on a movement to the door until I realized what I was doing. 

"Go," Oaken whispered. "We'll be safe here, just leave for a bit. When you come back we will still be alive, waiting for you."

I nodded tersely at him then flew out the door. I didn't stop there. I sprint in to the unknown, soaring and leaping over fallen forgery. I scaled a fir tree like a squirrel and sat, shaking. I felt nauseous. What was happening? Why was the ground spinning and my mind felt like it was being stirred with a spoon? The sky rippled and the oranges and reds of morning clashed harshly against each other. Trees ripped themselves from the ground and plucked there leaves off. The fir I sat in began to shake, and I clung with my all my strength to keep myself on. I had to be sick, something was defiantly wrong. Just as soon as my crazy burst came, it dissipated. Trees snapped back into place and I no longer felt like I would spew my empty stomach on the snow underneath me.

I was in trouble. If I got sick or went crazy who would keep Oaken ad Lark alive!? That was my sole purpose here wasn't it, to die when the time came for someone else to live? I knew that's what I would do. It was depressing to continually realize I was going to die, but I worked with it. The cold helped. I suddenly thanked the game makers for the bitter cold that took my mind off of my demise.

The brilliant glow of sunrise quickly deflated into the pale gray of day, but I sat, unwilling to go down and face my fears. I stayed for a few more hours. Birds whistled around me and it almost seemed peaceful in my tree. My safe zone. The animals chattered to each other, not recognizing the horror of a home they were living there lives in. I sat so still they hardly noticed me. They scurried past me on branches, evidently late to the next check on their To Do list. Could I stay here forever, would the bloodbath rage on below me without my help?

Then I heard the gut wrenching scream. Broken sobbing I'd only heard once in my entire life, the day I was reaped. The day my sister realized she was in the family going to die. Lark. I slid down the fir, bristles stabbing into exposed skin, but I didn't feel their sting. I only felt the intense urgency to find my family, because something was defiantly wrong. I followed the screams but they seemed to lead me in circles. I couldn't begin to try to find our cave. I was hopelessly lost. Then I heard it, well, him. My brother.

He called my name, pain evident in his hoarse voice. I couldn't understand exactly what he was saying, but I bolted anyways. I chased insanely after the cry until it was right next to me. Turning into a clearing surrounded by dense foliage, I saw them. The careers, District 2, his sister, and a new girl.

The new girl was long and lean and pretty enough, but the sword she gripped in her hands instantly took her beauty away. Her raven black hair was jagged around her face, like she had cut it with a knife, and her dead eyes stared at me. She made no move to attack me, so I immediately located Oaken and Lark. Lark was being held back by little 2 and Oaken by big 2. I realized what he was saying now; he was screaming for me to run and not come back, he was going to sacrifice himself and Lark. He didn't want me to come here and die.

Pain fell apart inside me but I shoved it back. I had to look tough, act bold and strong at this time.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw long one strike out towards me, but I was faster, my reflexes sharper than hers. I slipped out of the way, and she was unable to wrap her fingers around me. Suddenly Oaken slammed his head into Big 2's and the boy loosens his grip. Oaken almost wriggled free, but the other gained control again and threw him to the ground. They wrestled on the ground, punching, biting and kicking. Right now there was no clear victor, and I turned my attention away from him to Lark. She was immobile in Little 2's arms, and blankly watched Oaken's fight.

Long one once again made a move for me but this time I slipped on a piece of snow and she ripped me in by my ponytail. I turned and nailed her in the face, but she was stronger and taller than me so my punch barely stunned her. She easily whipped me around, securing me in place in her arms.

Her cold blade flew to my exposed neck, and it bit at my skin. Suddenly I watched Oaken get ripped back up from the ground with a bloody nose and a black eyes, but he seemed to hold his own pretty well. He was no match for the older boy's brute strength though, and he was roughly swallowed back into his arms. We all faced each other as we were held captive in our enemies' arms.

"You little brat!" Long one screamed as she spit blonde from her mouth. I applauded myself for the amazing hit, but she didn't seem very happy.

"what did she do now Sash?" Big 2 asked. So the girl keeping my locked up was named Sash, what a horrendous name.

"She punched me in the face Jet! I'm totally going to have a bruise "she wailed.

"I warned you she was a fighter" Jet spite back. "She's the only reason these two are alive!" he gestured at my siblings and laughed. "A baby from district 12 has proved to be our best competition yet, this has been one drag of a game!" he smirked.

Little 2 laughed at her brother's sadistic comment, and tightened her grip around Lark, making her cry out.

I leapt towards my sister, but Sash's arms held me tight.

She turned me around so she could look at me "You really do care for these people a lot huh?" she questioned, malice in her eyes. I spit in her face and she recoiled back, screaming.

I obviously pissed Jet off with my "act of defiance" and he seethed at me.

"I think the only right way for us to kill you is to have you watch your siblings die first!" he declared.

I went insane. This was not according to plan! I would die for them. I would never watch them die, it wouldn't happen.

"We will start with our little princess over here!" Little 2 replied, shaking Lark around.

A desperate wail flew from my lips but was silenced my Sash's hand. I wanted to bit into her hand until my teeth connected, but I knew it would mean Oaken and Lark would die in a more tortuous death.

Suddenly the unthinkable happened, Lark pushed out of Little 2's arms and produces a small dagger. I had never seen the weapon before, and it confused me how Lark had gotten it, and why she still had it. She gripped the hilt and sunk it into the other girl. Time stopped.

Life left Little 2's eyes and she slumped down. Everyone stood in disbelieve as Lark whirled around, a crazed look in her eyes.

"ROSA!" Jet cried. His face was a pure mask of rage, but he didn't let go of oaken. Instead he stabbed his sword through his back.

My stomach lurched as Oaken fell forward. He looked me in the eyes as he slipped out of Jet's hands, his icy blue eyes bright with pain. Lark screamed as he hit the snow. Jet tackled her to the ground, and I made out his threat of death. Lark continued to shriek but I knew it was because of Oaken, not Jet

"A sibling for a sibling dear." he purred.

Lark payed no attention to the hulking figure on top of her, but kept her eyes trained on her brother's dead body.

Suddenly her screaming stopped and I knew she was gone. Jet lifted himself up and looked down at the blood staining his shirt. He laughed and vainly tried to whip off his sword into the snow. Occasional scarlet drops of my sibling's blood left his hand, falling onto the snow with stark contrast to the white.

My body racked with aching sobs, and screams stayed trapped in my mouth by Sash's hand. I writhed and shook, but her hold would not break. So I fell in defeat against her body, what was the purpose in fighting anymore? Bitter tears ran down my cheeks and fell on sash's fingers. Her body shook with sadistic laughter at my misery.

I could only think of Oaken's last words to me as I saw his dead body on the ground, "When you come back we will still be alive, waiting for you." How wrong he was. 


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N OH MY GOSH! You guys are amazing! I have so many followers and favorites, and I really didn't think this story would go anywhere! I'm so grateful for all the reviews and support, so I decided to update a tad quicker! I got a new laptop, so updates should come a lot quicker than they did before! This chapter is a little bit dark, but what would you be thinking if one person just killed your family! I hope you like it! Love you!**

I couldn't stop the vicious streams of tears rushing from my eyes. My tears caused everything to be blurred into bright whites and browns, and I felt blind. I couldn't see anything clearly, but I could hear their laughs. They enjoyed this. They enjoyed the feeling of blood on their hands, the feeling of death. They truly believed this was a game, and they would be the almighty victor. This wasn't a game, this was hell.

"So Jet," Sash purred, "what are we going to do with this now? I think she lost her mind like her sister! These tributes from the other districts are pathetic, I mean keep it together! "She hissed.

"My exact thoughts Sash!" Jet exclaimed. "They just panic and run around, it's so easy to get them! They certainly are poor excuses for killers!"

My brain momentarily snapped back into place and I moaned at him "I'm not a killer." My words were meant to be fierce and intimidating, but they came out sounding like a small child had said them.

Suddenly Sash's body tensed and she held me even tighter around the waist, making it difficult for me to breath. "Don't you dare say that!" She roared. "You know what you did to my sister! I watched you throw that knife! Don't you dare act innocent, you killed a seven year old girl, and you say you're not a killer?!"

"That was your sister?" I whimpered. Suddenly I was pleased with the fact that the only life I had taken in this arena was the monster holding me back's sister.

"Yes it was my sister you idiot, I just said that!" She seethed.

"Well then I couldn't be happier that I did it." I gloated. If I was going to die I was going to make this girl miserable before she stabbed me. "I killed her for a bow," I croaked. "A stupid boy I never even used. I ripped it from her back and watched her blood stain the snow. I watched my knife sink into her back. It was the best throw I could have ever mustered." I snarled.

Sash shrieked and threw me to the ground, my face landing in the snow. "You monster!" she howled. "You KILLED my baby sister!"

I scrambled up from the ground and backed away from her. I warily watched Jet out of the corner of my eye, but he seemed dumbfounded at the scene going down before him. "A sibling for a sibling dear." I mocked, copying Jet's words.

She lunged for me, armed with her sword, but her anger made her fumble, and it was all too easy for me to side step out of her path. She swung blindly with her sword, nearly swiping Jet across the middle.

"Hey, Sash calm down!" He hollered. "You could have just killed me!"

She payed no attention to his words and flipped around, continuing her small hunt for me. I leapt from place to place, inched away from her sword every time she swung. I needed to reach my bow that had been thrown away from me when Sash captured me. I was almost there when her blade hit its target. Well, almost hit her target. The blade swung down my arm, slicing the material and now exposed skin, leaving a deep cut from my shoulder to a bit farther than my elbow. I seethed in pain and felt the ground begin to spin. This was not the time for me to faint! I pulled myself together and raced for my bow. I was no match for Sash's strength, but I could easily out run her. I reached my bow before she had realized I fled, and she was whipping around, searching for me.

I clasped the bow in my hands, shaking with pain and fury. A hastily snatched a nearby fallen arrow and notched it into its place. Sash had found my where about now, and bolted toward me until she realized I was holding my bow. She stop short in her place to stare at me, her eyes blank, like she hadn't just tried to kill me.

"Do it," she breathed. I was taken aback by her words, and stood there idiotically. "I said DO IT!" she wailed. "I don't want to live anymore! My sister was the only thing I had left, and she's gone, I have nothing to go back for!" she abruptly sank to her knees in the snow, her head falling into her hands. "Please, please just kill me." She sobbed.

It would be so simple to just let the arrow I was holding go, but for some reason I couldn't. I couldn't take this young women's life. She was like me. She had no one left to love. I stared at her, confused at what my next action would be.

Without warning Jet appeared above the girl, a knife in his hands. "If you're not going to do it 12, then I will." He growled. I stood dumbstruck as his knife plunged into her. In his hast to kill her, he didn't hit his mark, and she sank to the ground, screeching but alive.

That idiot didn't even give her a merciful death. I could have killed her quickly and painlessly with my bow, but I faltered and he got his chance to torture her. I released my fingers from the bow, and hit her perfectly, putting her out of her misery.

"Now that she's out of the way, I can kill you." Jet claimed. He turned up to look at me, but I was already gone, sprinting into the oncoming blizzard.

I lay there, dreaming. I was done. Life was done. What was worth living when everything was gone? Snowflakes slipped around me, passing through my sphere of pain. They didn't know what else to do; they just knew that's what they needed to do. I vaguely wished I had some form of a purpose like them, but it slipped from my fingers like the frost.

I had collapsed into the snow in a small clearing of growth, after I ran for hours, afraid Jet was behind me. I had no energy left. It was all an adrenalin rush after their deaths, and I was able to keep going, but know that I lay here I realized just how tired I was. I had killed another girl, ironically enough with the bow I stole when I killed her sister. I would never forget her moans; they were etched into my memory just like the other girl's screams.

I knew I should feel my arm burning with pain from the huge cut imbedded in it, my body convulsing with the exposure to cold, sadness over the past deaths, but I felt nothing. I was nothing. Life was nothing. Why couldn't I be blessed with death? Wasn't it the thing I cried into the sky at this very moment? "Kill me, kill me God, please."

I tried to grasp on to some feeling, something alive in myself, to anchor my senses in, but I was empty. I was inferior to everything. I searched for something, but it was in vain. Nothing would turn up. I had forever lost it. I had lost my will to live.

I knew I was vulnerable lying in the snow. Jet or anyone left one could find me and end my pity excuse for a life. But what did it matter now, dying would be a merciful gift.

I knew strong, real Maison would pick herself up and live, but she was gone. She would have forced herself to stop moping, to stop feeling sorry for herself, but there was no one to control this body. The person that used to command it left as soon as the other girl's light did.

Every time I shut my eyes I saw them. Lifeless people, their dead eyes ripping into my soul. "Why Maison, Why couldn't you save us?" their cruel, raspy voices hissed.

I cried out to them "I tried, I tried! Please come back to me!" but they never did, they sat there, just out of reach as I watched their deaths on replay. The girl, wide eyed, her mind visibly breaking. The boy, gone in seconds, but every one of them pure agony.

White fluff gathered around me. It seemed innocent, pure and full of good intentions. Why couldn't I be like this snow? Clean, soft, pretty, everything I wasn't. Everything Lark was.

My mind recoiled as her name seared my thoughts. My beautiful, bright sister, gone. The only one I could every fully trust. The only one I would allow to hold me as I cried. My beautiful song bird. Pure as the melodies it joyfully sang. Every day she rose like the sun, smiling. Giving and loving and making others happy, giving their lives purpose. I remember watching her skip with the younger children to school. Laughing at their stories and kissing them on the nose, the way she would bring flowers everyday to our cabin, to make it "welcoming" she would say. How she would wrap her slender arms around my crying father, and whisper, "we will see mother again one day, I promise." I prayed more sincerely then I ever had in my life, that that was were my perfect sister now resided. With my mother. With my brother.

My brother. My brother. My only brother. Oaken. His last words he ever said to me. I thought of my Oaken, My strong, sensitive Oaken. My rock. How he pushed me to prove myself to him every day, making me believe he hated me. I know now he truly loved me, every brother loves his baby sister. No matter what she's done. He had left me now too, ripped away from my outstretched hand.

I bitterly wept, hating every single thing in cruel life. I felt everything suddenly; it pounded into me like a bullet. It made my heart ache. I felt the cold whispering around my body. I felt the pure agony y of my injury. Then, like before, I felt nothing, nothing but hostile anger. Who has the right to take the only things I had left, away? I saw his face. Watched as he laughed at my sister's deranged madness until she killed his family. How his eyes light up when he fully realized what he had done to my brother. How he stupidly failed to kill the other girl, leaving her in misery.

I would kill him, murder him. Rip off his revolting smile, and mangle his body. He wouldn't have anything to laugh about when I found him. I would crush his soul. Set fire to his body and mind. I would take away everything he had left first. Just like he did to me. He would finally feel real pain. I would get my revenge. He would die, but no one would make it out of these games. Not even me.


End file.
